Drinks and Advice From A Former Assassin?
by Selene Illusinia
Summary: [More Than She Seems] Danya and Natasha have a discussion over vodka shots. Revelations on Danya's part. Sarcasm, anecdotes, and moping abound with some humor thrown in for good measure. Not necessary to understand anything else in the series.


**So, for those of you reading Mischief Loves a Challenge, you're all familiar with Danya and some of the dynamic I've been trying to work in between her and Steve. But what does Danya actually feel? Or think for that matter. Some moping, sarcasm, and revelations along the way, with Natasha's help of course. I apologize in advance if I butchered Natasha's character. I'm posting this separate so those of you who are curious can read it, but its not necessary.**

**Enjoy.**

**- Illusinia**

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><p>The vodka burned as it splashed against Danya's throat, blurring her vision a little with tears. It wasn't as bad as shooting whiskey, but that didn't mean there wasn't discomfort. And really, when you were doing shots, comfort wasn't what mattered. It was the alcohol intake and its ability to help you forget, or at least ease pain.<p>

"Alcohol kills blood cells," pointed out a voice behind her in the most casual way one could imagine.

Danya didn't even need to turn around to address the individual. "Hey 'Tasha, what're you doing here?"

"Ensuring that you don't end up dead," replied Natasha as she slid onto a stool beside the rapidly drinking scientist. "Fury would be unhappy if that happened, though I'm more concerned for Steve's well being. You are the only individual he's reached out to. Its..._discouraging_."

Danya snorted slightly. "He might reach out to you, if you and Clint would stop dancing around each other like bloody school kids."

One of Natasha's eyebrows rose, even as she signaled for a shot of vodka herself. "School kids?"

"You two want each other but refuse to actually _do_ anything about it," confirmed Danya as she took another shot. "Sounds like a pair of school kids to me."

"Hardly," scoffed Natasha. "Clint and I are merely friends."

Danya shook her head with a snort. "Right. And I'm the queen of Whales."

"You did associate with a man who referred to himself as the God of Mischief once," pointed out Natasha before she downed her own shot. "It isn't any more far-fetched than that."

"What, that you and Clint are just friends?" asked Danya. "Please, I've seen two people dance around each other. You guys are being stupid not to jump at the chance to actually be together."

Both of Natasha's eyebrows shot up rapidly and she actually felt Danya's forehead. "Are you feeling alright Danya? It isn't like you to discuss romance. Period."

"Fine," muttered Danya a little bitterly. "And that's not really a fair assessment. It seems like everything I've talked about in the last month that _isn't_ biochemistry related goes back to romance."

Natasha's eyes lit up suddenly, a fact which Danya hated. Her cousin didn't need to be involved in her wallowing. "You're referring to Steve's crush. Did you find out who it is?"

"How do you know its a crush?" challenged Danya without any real force. Natasha was observant, she probably knew from watching Steve's behavior. "Maybe he really loves this woman."

"Girl," dismissed Natasha. "At least, if the individual I'm thinking of is the target of his affections then she's little more than a girl."

Danya spun on her stool to stare at her cousin and almost fell off in the process. "You've seen her?"

"Possibly," replied Natasha, who carefully examined Danya out of the corner of her eye. "It would be impossible to tell for certain though."

"Damn," muttered Danya, her head dropping to the table. "He won't even tell me this girl's name." She shifted so her face was pointed towards Natasha. "Also, be aware that if this girl, whoever she is, agrees to go out with Steve then you're getting dragged to S.H.I.E.L.D's little dance."

Natasha almost spit out her drink. "Excuse me?"

"Steve and I made a deal," explained Danya. "If Steve gets turned down, he drags me to this thing and if she agrees then he's got to talk you into going so I'll go."

The look on her cousin's face was priceless. Almost pure shock. "Let me get this straight, the man _you_ have feels for has to go with you to a dance if he gets turned down by another girl but I have to go if his invitation is accepted?"

"Pretty much," chuckled Danya. "Steve's convinced I don't get out enough."

"I doubt you do," agreed Natasha with a huff. "But why drag me into this?"

Danya shrugged. "You're the only other person I know who might go. It was Steve's suggestion. Blame him."

Natasha's eyebrow rose again. "For attempting to forcefully remove my over-worked cousin from her lab and subjecting her to a night of fun? The man should be given a medal for risking your wrath."

"My temper isn't _that_ bad," muttered Danya with a little pout. It was clearly made in jest.

The bar tender set a bottle between the two of them and a tab for the entire thing. It was premium Russian vodka. It was then that Danya realized she'd done about three more shots since the first one she had done when Natasha arrived. Natasha seemed just as surprised, but waved the whole matter off quickly. Instead, she opened the bottle and poured two more shots.

"What was it that Coulson did again to earn your continued mockery?" questioned Natasha with a knowing look.

Danya growled and reached for her shot. "He's an arrogant, forceful, repetitious, disrespectful bastard."

"Ah, yes, I recall that now," hummed Natasha. "What was that about your temper not being particularly volatile?"

Muttering came from the biochemist as she took another shot. Beside her, Natasha did the same, then set both glasses and the bottle aside. For a moment, Danya looked ready to object but quieted at a look from the former assassin.

"Danya, what are your feelings for Steven?" asked Natasha, her voice oddly gentile.

The brunette rolled her eyes, locking gazes with her cousin. "I don't have _feelings_ for Steve. He's a buddy."

"Right," agreed Natasha as she held Danya's gaze. "I will believe that as soon as you offer proof that you have interest in another man."

"Huh?" She must have been drunker than she thought. Her cousin wasn't making any sense.

The Russian woman rolled her eyes. "Danya, I can read you like a book. Your dark mood is clearly because Steve is attracted to this other woman. You refuse to do anything about it for reasons I can not even begin to hazard and are putting yourself through hell simply because you are afraid. Drop the bullshit and tell me how you feel towards the man."

Danya sighed and turned so she could lean back against the counter. "I feel like he's a great guy, probably the best I've ever met. That's including my high school friends too. He's sweet, caring almost to the point of doting, but at the same time he steps back and allows the women in his life to be strong." She paused, glancing at Natasha uncertainly before continuing. "Plus he's already involved with S.H.I.E.L.D and knows a little about my work just because he gets sent to me for blood tests. The man is basically everything I need, which is exactly the problem."

Natasha shook her head slowly. "And you refer to Clint and myself as children."

"Its hardly the same," insisted Danya with a snort. "You and Clint? You guys are equal on the karma scale. Steve and I aren't. He's the golden boy, representative of everything that makes America, well, America. I'm the prank-loving, trouble-making genius protege of Russian-English decent that probably did more bad things in a month than Steve ever _thought_ of doing in his whole life." Her fingers traced over imperfections in the bar's wood. "In short: I'd eat him alive and spit out his bones."

"Do you think you love him?" asked Natasha suddenly.

Danya jumped a little, surprised by her cousin's interest. "I don't know, maybe?"

Natasha sighed heavily and turned to completely face Danya. "Take away your reservations and issues. Pretend that Steven was still himself without being a post-card example of moral perfection. Would you still want him then, even if he had flaws?"

"I'm pretty sure moral perfection qualifies as a flaw," pointed out Danya, though a smile was breaking across her lips.

The bottle and shot glasses were returned to their original locations, with the glasses full of vodka. Danya raised an eyebrow at Natasha, wondering what her cousin's game was.

"You love him," explained Natasha before throwing back her glass and dropping some money on the bar. "That was all I needed to know. Come, we should return home. Its getting late."

The faint smile which had been playing at Danya's lips became a full blown smirk. "In other words, get me home before I end up trashed and talking to the plants again."

Natasha shot her an uncertain look. "You've spoken to plants while drunk before?"

"Cousin Marlia's wedding," reminded Danya with a smirk. "Actually, I think you were trashed too."

"Beyond," confirmed Natasha as they strode out of the door of the bar. "The entire affair was boring enough to bring me to tears."

Danya chuckled softly, following at the same pace despite the larger quantity of alcohol in her blood stream. Hey, Romanov's could drink. "I think everyone was in tears. I know it was a Catholic wedding, but who says ten minutes worth of vows?"

"Cousin Marlia apparently," muttered Natasha.

For a little while, both women walked in silence, enjoying the night and the hum of alcohol. It wasn't until they were in front of the Avenger's Manor that both stopped.

"Will you be able to get home?" questioned Natasha. "I'm certain that you could stay here if you wanted to. Fury certainly wouldn't mind."

Danya shook her head. "I'm good 'Tasha. I'll grab a cab out to where I need to go and get in from there. Fury gives us brainy types all taser's and panic buttons, just in case something happens."

"Hmmm, good to know," hummed Natasha as she turned to enter the gated Manor. Danya started to walk away, but her cousin's words caught her attention. "And Danya, I expect you to do something about this little attraction you have. A wise woman told me tonight that I was stupid for not taking a chance. You would be wise to follow the same advice."

For a moment, Danya stopped on the sidewalk and listened as Natasha ducked into the Manor. When the click of the gate echoed across the deserted span of street was when she started moving again. For the remainder of the walk to a street where she could catch a cab and the entire ride to Coney Island, those words echoed around her mind.

_Maybe 'Tasha's right,_ thought Danya as she flashed her security badge upon entering the tunnels that would take her back to her lab. _Maybe I do need to take the risk. We only get one chance after all._


End file.
